Following In His Footsteps
by arirang
Summary: Seta Soujiro's saga: his life as a rurouni and his search for truth. 7 years, told through the eyes of the 7 women he meets, as he follows in the footsteps of Himura Kenshin. My first RuroKen fanfic...enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Seta Soujiro's saga: his life as a rurouni and his search for truth. 7 years of wandering, told through the eyes of the 7 women he meets, as he follows in the footsteps of Himura Kenshin.

**A/N:** Hey! So basically, this fic is going to have 7 parts, for each of the women. It might get confusing. I'm sorry. For example, the very first part of the first chapter is confusing! There was supposed to be a prologue but I got too lazy to write it. Basically, Soujiro goes to Osaka and finds an old friend of Shishio's named Sato. Sato is a collector of swords and Soujiro uses all the yen he has to buy a katana made by Shakku (I probably spelled that wrong).

Yesh. Also, I'm not Japanese and I will probably make a whole lot of inaccuracies. All information pertaining to Japan are from online sites, such as food, names, cities, etc. If the sites are wrong (which makes me wrong) I apologize to anyone I might've offended. And some things may not be historically correct. Most of the history information I got from my World History textbook, but the textbook is very vague around this time period and so I had to be creative...a scary thought.

Oh, right! Disclaimer: I am not Japanese, I am not male, and my name is not Watsuki Nobuhiro. If I had all those characteristics, then I would own the rights to RuroKen and Soujiro would be taller and have a larger role. He is so short. But as it is, I'm just a pathetic little fangirl with no life but manga/anime and ridiculous wishes...

Ha, one more thing. I'm not going to talk about the other events after the Kyoto Arc because Soujiro is just kind of going to do his own thing. Well, I might. I don't know. But I thought I should warn you all beforehand...

Okay, okay, I won't bother you anymore. Read on and enjoy!

**---------------------------**

**Kuroda Midoriko**

Chapter One

_He'd only walked a mile or so from Sato's when he realized something. He had used up all his yen on his katana. Also, his hardtack was running out. He decided he would find a way out of Osaka and catch frogs in the forest. He had had to resort to that before, when working for Shishio. However, it was easier said than done. He decided he would be smart. He would walk in the same direction the entire time, which would guarantee an escape from the city._

_Osaka's streets, though, don't go in one simple direction. After wandering around for a few hours, he finally admitted something. He was utterly lost, and very hungry. He ate the rest of his hardtack, but it wasn't enough._

_As if fate wanted to spite him, he wandered some more and found himself in the middle of a food market. His stomach snarled at the stalls of fragrant roast pork and fish, strung up high for him to see. He walked past them reluctantly, all the while growing hungrier._

_But he couldn't tear his eyes away from that donburi…_

--

I was making my way through the markets to buy fish when I saw him, the young stranger. He was standing in front of Daisuke's stall, looking all the world like a half-starved dog in a chicken coop. Daisuke was bellowing out in a loud voice, "Donburi! Delicious donburi here!" He turned to the stranger and asked, "You want some? I've got oyakodon, unadon, katsudon, and gyudon."

"Oh," said the stranger, smiling wistfully and throwing up his hands. "I'm broke."

Daisuke turned away and began calling out to the public again, "Donburi! Delicious donburi here!"

The look on the stranger's face as he stared at the food was hilarious. "Kid," I said, walking up to him and putting my hand on his shoulder. "Which do you want?"

"No, thank you," he said, smiling again. "Please, it's all right."

I turned to Daisuke and tossed him a few coins. "One bowl of katsudon," I said.

"No, no," protested the stranger, but I pulled him over to an empty table and shoved the bowl in front of him. He dug in very heartily. He must not have eaten in a long time. After he had wolfed down a few bites, he asked, "How do I repay you?"

"It's all right, I don't need to be repaid," I answered. "What's your name?"

"Seta Soujiro." He finished his bowl and stood up. "Thank you, lady. You'll have to excuse me, but I must continue."

"Where are you going?" I asked him, following him out of the store.

Soujiro shrugged. "Wherever my feet take me," he answered.

"And I hope you realize that there's an edict against carrying swords?"

He shrugged.

"What's that katana doing on your waist, then?"

He shrugged again.

"Speak to me, damn it!" I shouted, and slapped the top of his head. Oops—I always have had a very bad tendency to grow violent over small things. The poor kid was the victim of my next outburst. Soujiro stumbled a little, but straightened up and smiled that stupid smile. "I'm sorry, Soujiro, I just have a very short temper," I said apologetically.

Soujiro laughed, "It's fine. You have a very strong hand. Anyway, I was born a swordsman. I need this katana to survive. It gives me a sense of comfort."

"You have a death threat, boy? The police here in Osaka have no mercy. How old are you anyway?"

"Um, twenty, lady."

I stared at him. He didn't look seventeen. He looked maybe fifteen or sixteen! _Well_, I thought, _he doesn't look that bad. He's actually kind of cute in a little boy way…_

"Hey, boy!" someone shouted behind me. I turned, and saw Isamu barrel past me and pull Soujiro away. Isamu and I used to work together in a sukiyaki restaurant, where he cooked and I waited, until I was fired and told never to set foot in the restaurant again.

I knew what was coming the moment I heard Isamu's voice. He drew Soujiro away a few yards and began whispering hurriedly, occasionally glancing back at me. He wasn't a very good whisperer, but even if he were, I would still know exactly what he was saying. Isamu, like everyone else I knew save for a precious few, believed in the rumors that floated around me.

I was a widow of three husbands, Kichiro, Seiichi, and Osamu.

Isamu's hisses reached my ears. "All three died mysterious, gruesome deaths, do you hear? On the seventh morning after the marriage, each one's head was found in a pool of blood beside his sleeping mat. Each one lasted exactly six days. She's a kitsune, boy, a fox demon in human form. She seduces men into marriage and eats their bodies. I hear if you accept food from a kitsune's hand, you become her slave. Run, before she claims you!"

Soujiro looked mildly amused. He turned and walked back to me, leaving a fuming and confused Isamu behind. Was the boy going to run me through with his katana? I stepped back a bit. With a smile, Soujiro said, "I have always wanted to meet a kitsune."

"Uh…" I was speechless. Most people, when they hear the rumors, they flee as instructed. I'd expected him to kill me or something! "Thank you, but I'm not a demon."

"Is it true about your husbands?"

Feeling my face turn red, I looked off to the side. "Yes, I found their heads on the seventh morning, each one," I said, looking up and gazing defiantly into his curious blue eyes. "But I didn't kill them!"

"I'm sorry about their deaths."

Again, I was caught dumbfounded. This boy was strange. Why should he be sorry, when everyone else turned his or her back? He didn't even know my name! "You're starting to freak me out, kid," I said.

"Why?"

Oh gods, stop playing with me. "Because no one else has ever reacted like that before. No one else carries around a sword. No one else has heard the belief that I'm a kitsune and still smiled like that," I answered angrily.

Soujiro's hands flew to his head—for good reason. "Please don't lose your temper again, lady," he said.

Suddenly, I had an idea. I was so proud of myself. As my late second husband, Seiichi, once said, I am "a very practical, very conventional woman devoid of creativity and rare to come up with a decent strategy". We had been playing that Western game, chess, and I had thrown the board off the table, scattered the pieces, and given him a good walloping when he'd said it.

Anyway, I had an idea. "Soujiro," I said. "Would you like to help me find out who the murderer is? It could be payment for the donburi."

"Sure, how?"

I winked at him and stepped closer. "Are you any good with that katana?"

Soujiro shrugged. "A little, I guess," he said.

"Good." In a quiet voice I explained, "We'll pretend that we're getting married. And on the sixth night, we'll stay awake and you'll catch whoever it is."

"That sounds like a good plan," said Soujiro. "Okay, I'll help you. What's your name, lady?"

"Kuroda Midoriko," I answered. "I haven't quite worked out the details yet, though."

"Kuroda-san," the boy began.

"Call me Midoriko."

"Midoriko-san," he began again.

"Just Midoriko!" I snapped.

"Midoriko," Soujiro finally said. "How will we fake a marriage?"

"Um." I thought briefly. "We could walk around together for a few weeks. Everyone who saw us would know that love is brewing. And we can't tell anybody, not even our closest friends." I peered hard at him. "You're not from around here, anyway, are you?"

Soujiro shook his head. "I'm from Kyoto."

"Okay, so no one knows you." I continued with my plan, "Then, after a few weeks, we'll go to the other side of Osaka where no one will follow us and come back on a white horse and in wedding garments. Everyone will assume we just got married."

"You're smart, Kuroda-san," laughed the boy.

"Midoriko."

"Oh, yes, I forgot, I'm sorry. You're smart, Midoriko-san." My fist connected, and he heaved himself up from the floor, rubbing his jaw. Onlookers laughed, until they saw it was the kitsune who'd punched someone. "Did I mention you have a very strong hand, Kuroda-san?"

I groaned inwardly. This was going to be a hell of a few weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews!

This chapter may seem like I'm rushing it. Well, I realized that if I didn't rush Midoriko, then her story would stretch to six or seven chapters. The problem is, I still have six women to go. While there are a few exceptions, I myself do not have the patience for reading or writing over30chaptered fics. So this entire chapter will span three weeks.

I've never been to Osaka. Don't sue me if I'm wrong about the docks and everything. Also, today is my last day of winter vacation, and then it's back to school (sigh). It'll take a while for me to update, since my teachers seem to enjoy making me stay up until 1 or 2 every night...especially my PSYCHOLOGY TEACHER DANGIT. Third, I try to be funny, but I'm not a funny person. I'm not witty or clever or whatever you want to call it. I'm more of a funny person to my friends because I'm so out of it and it's amusing. So my fic might sound corny in some parts...ah, I try!

Finally, I forgot to give credit to Vivian Vande Velde (The Book of Mordred) for the idea of telling a story about a man through the POVs of multiple women. She is an awesome awesome author. Everyone should read her books!

(sigh--I should stop with these crazy long A/Ns.)

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Chapter Two

"Boy, wake up," I said, shaking his shoulder gently. Soujiro slept on quite peacefully. _At least he doesn't snore_, I thought. "Seta Soujiro, wake UP!" I shouted in his ear.

The boy stirred a little. "Just a minute longer, Shishio-san."

Shishio? "I'm not any goddamn Shishio, curse it, and wake up!"

"Oh!" Soujiro sat up slowly and glanced around him. "Right. I forgot. I'm sorry, Kuroda-san."

I didn't bother correcting him anymore. "Who's Shishio?"

"Oh…the man I stayed with in Kyoto," he answered vaguely, yawning. His eyes were very droopy. He still wasn't fully awake.

"Well, get dressed, and I'll take you to the market for breakfast." I ruffled his head. "And wake up."

"Okay," mumbled Soujiro, reaching mechanically for his kimono beside his mat.

I waited for him by the door. Nearly fifteen minutes later, he stumbled across the main room towards me. "Didn't I tell you to wake up?" I sighed, helping him out the door (he needed it).

"I'm sorry, Kuroda-san," he mumbled again. "Tea…"

"Well, why didn't you say so the first time?" I grabbed his kimono sleeve and dragged him through the busy masses of people in front of my house. Leading him to a small teashop squeezed between two larger food stalls, I dropped him onto a seat at an empty table and sat across from him. "Tatsuya!" I called.

The owner of the teashop, my childhood and now closest friend Tatsuya, came bustling from the storeroom. "Oh, Riko-chan!" he laughed. I smiled up at him. I had known him since forever, and even throughout the turmoil of my husbands' deaths, he had stood by my side with those warm brown eyes that comforted me. He smiled back, until he saw Soujiro swaying unsteadily on his stool. "Is he okay?" Tatsuya asked.

"He needs tea," I said. "Or so he said. A cup for each, please?"

"Of course," he answered, leaving with a forced smile. He came back soon with a teapot and cups, and poured tea for us each. He still had that forced smile.

"Tatsuya, what's wrong?" I demanded.

Tatsuya glanced at Soujiro, who was downing his cup in a gulp and holding it out for more. "It's just…is he your new love interest?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Soujiro? He's cute, don't you think?" I said, winking broadly.

Pouring the boy another cup, Tatsuya sighed, "It's just…it worries me. Please don't marry him, Riko-chan. Someone's obviously out to murder all your husbands, and I can't bear to think such an innocent-looking boy might die like that…"

"Oh, he's innocent alright," I laughed.

Soujiro was slowly coming to his senses. By the fifth cup of tea, he was fully alert. "Kuroda-san, I'm very sorry for all the tea you have to pay for. I find it hard to wake up without having a few cups of tea in the morning," apologized the kid. He turned to Tatsuya. "Thank you…sir…?"

"Toyotomi Tatsuya," he said. "It's nothing, Soujiro." He turned back to me again. "Is that all? What are you doing today?"

I answered, "Ah, I don't know. Soujiro is new to Osaka. I think I might show him around."

Tatsuya put his large hand on my shoulder. "Be careful, Riko-chan," he said softly. And then I watched him disappear into the storeroom again.

Like a true gentleman, Soujiro helped me up and out of the shop. As we walked down the street, I slipped my hand into his. He had very slender hands, really, but they were calloused and rough. I hoped it meant he really was a good swordsman.

"You look very beautiful in that yukata," said the boy, loud enough for a few people to hear.

"Thank you, Soujiro," I said, just as loud. Then, quieter, "Did you really mean that?"

He shrugged with that smile of his. "You are a beautiful person, Kuroda-san."

I blushed a little. "Thank you," I mumbled. "Um…Let's go to the docks."

It was a beautiful day. Sunlight splashed across the horizon, silhouettes of ships sailed in the distance, and seabirds squawked as they flew overhead. I leaned against the railing of a bridge and reveled in the salty wind.

"You really seem to like the sea, Kuroda-san," commented Soujiro behind me.

I laughed into the wind. "It's so open, so free and wild," I sighed. "Someday, I'd like to sail off into the sunset, the way all the sailors put it so romantically."

Beside me, Soujiro also leaned against the railing. "That man, Toyotomi-san, is he a good friend of yours?"

"Yes, we've been friends for as long as I can remember. I go to his teashop every morning." I peered into the dark waters beneath the bridge and smiled at my reflection. "Even when the world hated me, he was always by my side."

"He seems to love you very much."

"Oh, we're the closest of friends." I turned to the boy. "Did you mean that he loves me as a man loves a woman?"

Soujiro shrugged, looking out to sea. "The way he looks at you…you haven't noticed yourself, Kuroda-san?"

I shook my head. "I don't think it's like that," I said. "We're just friends."

"If you don't mind my asking, how did your husbands die?"

"The way Isamu put it: I found their severed heads in a pool of blood by their sleeping mats. Why?"

His face was unreadable, the usual innocent, wistful look. "Did you ever try staying awake during the sixth night?"

"Of course!" I said automatically. But then, he got me thinking. Of course I had tried…but I never remembered anything but waking up and finding my husband's bloodied head.

Soujiro was watching my face. Suddenly, he laughed, "Of course you would. Someone was probably drugging you and your husband, so that you would not wake up when this someone came in at night." He reached over and touched my hand gently. "Did your husbands' heads look like they were cut by a sword?"

I nodded. "That's what the cremator said."

"Okay." He stood up straight and stretched. "Kuroda-san, will you show me more of Osaka?"

"Sure," I answered, taking his hand. As we strolled down the bridge, Soujiro was lost in thought. That boy…I could never figure out what was going on inside his head.

--

For three weeks, we walked around Osaka, clutching hands and pretending to bask in each other's company. I could already hear the whispers. "The kitsune has snagged another unsuspecting boy. Poor child!"

Sometimes, I couldn't tell if the boy really was falling for me. He was always so blissful, so naïve, and said the sweetest things. As for myself, I thought he was cute, but not my type. For his pretty sword and gauntlets, he didn't look very muscular, and I usually prefer the more brawny men, such as Tatsuya. He also looked and acted so _young_.

In other words, I wasn't sure myself.

One morning, after leaving the teashop, I said to Soujiro somewhat loudly. "Sou-chan, do you love me?"

He replied, "Of course I love you, Kuroda-san."

"I'm so glad we're getting married today, then!"

"Um…yes, I am, too!"

I sighed inwardly. If anything, he can't act.

"Kuroda-san?" he asked tentatively, leaning down to whisper into my ear.

"Hmm?"

"You said we would come back on a white horse, right?"

"Yes."

"I've…never ridden a horse before."

Oh gods. "I was exaggerating, idiot," I laughed, slapping his forehead. "Where would we get a horse? Of course we're coming back in a carriage."

We finally reached my home. Soujiro accompanied me into my bedroom, where I searched through my wardrobe for my third husband's wedding clothes and my old wedding kimono.

"Here you go," I said, handing him the kimono. "I think it will fit you." I also handed him a large traveler's bag, and stuffed my own kimono into it. "Try it on in your bedroom, and come back quickly."

The boy obediently left. I was packing in lunch when he came back. Soujiro handed me the kimono and waited patiently for me to pack it away.

Finally, we were ready. "Let's go," he said, hoisting the pack onto his shoulder.

We hired a small carriage to take us to the other side of Osaka, a twenty-minute ride or so. For the first few minutes, we rode in silence, Soujiro again lost in thought.

"You look so serious," I teased him. "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh…nothing," he sighed. "It's just…I remember the day the newspapers flew all over Japan, because Governor Okubo had been assassinated."

"What does that have to do with anything?" This boy had the strangest train of thought.

He turned to me. "You didn't know that he was killed in a moving carriage?"

I hit him lightly on the shoulder. "Boy, no one is going to kill us in this carriage," I snorted. "The horses are cantering. No one can catch up to a moving carriage!"

Soujiro shrugged. "I suppose you're right."

We lapsed into an awkward silence again, until I felt his hand creeping across the seat to hold mine. "Soujiro, you don't have to. No one is watching."

"I like holding your hand, Kuroda-san. I've never held hands with anyone before," he explained, gazing forward with that young smile.

I scoffed in disbelief, "Not even your mother?"

"I…left my mother when I was about two."

"Oh." I squeezed his hand comfortingly. "Why?"

"My father and mother didn't live together, and my father thought it'd be best if I lived with him. He wasn't the warm type, you know, and so I never got to hold his hand."

"Oh," I said again. I had never been with a husband long enough to conceive a child, but still, I could feel a mother's pain of losing a child, and perhaps Soujiro's pain of leaving his mother. "Your father was kind to you, though, right?"

He faced me with a smile. "Not as kind as you, Kuroda-san."

I brought my fist down onto the top of his head. "I hear echoes in there," I said, ruffling his hair.

--

After a nice day touring downtown Osaka, we came back in a carriage, wearing our wedding kimonos. Soujiro's kimono fit very well, and I was surprised at how much older, and handsomer, it made him look.

We stepped out of the carriage a block from my house, so we could walk a little ways where everyone would see us. I clung to Soujiro's arm and rested my head on his shoulder romantically. He smiled as usual.

Tatsuya had been locking up his teashop, and he saw us passing by. "Riko-chan!" he called out. "Soujiro!" Running out to us, he grabbed us both by the shoulders. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Toyotomi-san," said Soujiro.

"Tatsuya!" I let go of Soujiro and hugged my friend warmly. He hugged me back, and whispered, "Good luck with this one."

"Thanks," I said, releasing him and joining my "husband" again. "Sou-chan, let's go home."

We both said good-bye to Tatsuya and walked back home, both aware of the stares and whispers around us as people also finished up for the day.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Again, thanks for reviewing!

I bet you all thought that this chapter would be about the sixth night, we would all find out who the mysterious (or not so mysterious) killer is, and Midoriko would be finished.

Ha. Ha.

Yes, well, read on...(and see how violent Riko can get sometimes--reminds me of myself in sixth grade. Oh, those were dark days for my fellow middle schoolers...).

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Chapter Three

As a "wedded" couple, we slept in the same room now, but on separate sleeping mats. Life was no different, except there was an added tension as we waited for the week to near its end.

On the fifth day, Soujiro was washing clothes and I was making okonomiyaki when he spoke up. "Kuroda-san, do you remember when I mentioned you being drugged?"

"Yes," I said, chopping up some green onions.

"If you don't mind, please don't drink or eat anything given to you by anyone else, even Toyotomi-san."

"I can't have his tea?" I asked, mixing up the batter.

Soujiro shrugged apologetically. "Precautions, Kuroda-san. He may get suspicious, though, if we don't go to his teashop…"

"Tatsuya would not kill anyone!" I snapped.

"…So we will go and I will talk with him in the storeroom, while you dump it out somewhere."

"I said, Tatsuya would not…"

"I know, Kuroda-san, but Toyotomi-san may be unknowingly helping the murderer."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, a friend of his might be the murderer, and he might offhandedly say, 'Oh, Riko-chan didn't come today. How strange.' And the murderer would not attempt to kill me tonight, but maybe some other night, since he knows that you are being careful about drugs."

I looked up from the griddle, very surprised. "Perhaps there is a brain behind that stupidly smiling face of yours," I said.

"Oh," laughed Soujiro, "I have been thinking about this for a long time." He sniffed the air. "You're making okonomiyaki!"

I whacked him with my chopsticks. "I take back what I said."

Soujiro had splashed water from the tub of laundry all over himself and the kitchen floor. "I'm sorry, Kuroda-san, I'll clean this up right away." He chuckled, "Even though you were the one to knock me into the tub."

I whacked him again before turning to finish topping the pancakes with the sauce.

--

The next day, Soujiro was the one to wake me up.

"What happened to your necessary five cups of tea?" I asked groggily.

"We can't drink Tatsuya's tea today, so I decided to wake up for once," he said cheerfully. "Good morning!"

"You can't 'decide to wake up' every day?" I said, reaching for my kimono. He turned his back respectfully and I changed as quickly as possible. "Soujiro, if our plans go wrong…I'm very sorry."

"It's all right, Kuroda-san. It was fun being with you," he said, still facing the wall.

I finished tying on my obi, walked over to him, and patted his head. "You can look now. Let's go to Tatsuya's."

We sat down in our usual spot. Tatsuya bustled over with a teapot and cups, staring at Soujiro. "He's awake," my friend exclaimed, pouring us both a cup.

I shrugged. "He was wide awake this morning." I leaned over to Tatsuya and whispered, "I think he's a bit nervous."

"Toyotomi-san? Can I talk with you in the storeroom?" asked Soujiro.

"Of course." They both walked into the storeroom.

I stared at my teacup. Would Tatsuya drug it? Would my best friend do this to me? I took a deep breath and poured the tea back into the teapot.

They came back within a few minutes. I pressed the teacup to my lips and pretended to be putting it down just as the two came to the table.

Soujiro said, "Kuroda-san, I asked Toyotomi-san if he knew anything about the murderer. Unfortunately, he doesn't." The boy gave a long sigh. "I'd ask Daisuke and Isamu and the others, but they think I'm a demon, too, because I'm married to you."

Tatsuya threw up his hands. "I'm sorry I can't help you anymore. I wish you good luck."

"Thank you," we said as we left his shop.

Everywhere we went, people called out, "Good luck!" "The kitsune's going to make her kill tonight, boy!" "Watch your back tonight, kid!" Soujiro and I ignored their hoots and walked forward bravely.

We went to the docks again, and I prayed that it wouldn't be the last time. "Kuroda-san," said Soujiro as we watched the waves crash against moored ships. "Who do you think it is?"

"I don't know." I thought about all the people I knew. "Probably Kazuro."

"Who's that?"

"Kazuro? He was the older brother of my good friend, Amaya. Amaya contracted tuberculosis when we were, oh, fifteen or so, nearly ten years ago. The hospital she stayed in couldn't help her, and she died within a year. Since then, Kazuro, who had been very close to his sister, became withdrawn and cold towards me. I think he sort of blamed it on me, for some reason."

"I haven't met him. Does he still live in Osaka?"

"Well, I heard that he went to Tokyo to become a government official five years ago, but I've never heard from him since." I sighed, "He's the only one I can think of who didn't like me before I met Kichiro." I turned to Soujiro. "Why? Who do you think it is?"

"Me? Oh, I don't know," he said distantly.

I peered at him, but he wouldn't meet my gaze. He really was a terrible actor. "You know something," I accused.

"Well," Soujiro said, smiling at me, "we'll know tonight, won't we?"

"If we manage to catch the murderer, whoever he is, what are you going to do after that?" I asked. I wasn't sure if I wanted him to leave just yet. Stupid and young as he was, he was a nice companion to have. I would miss seeing that silly smile.

"I'm a wanderer," he said. "A few months ago, I decided to leave my caretaker, Shishio-san, and wander for ten years. I think I'll sail to Shikoku, or maybe just visit Nara. Maybe I'll stay out in the country and visit farming villages or sleep under the stars. Who knows?"

"You'll go wherever your feet take you," I said, repeating what he had told me the first day we'd met.

"Yes. Kuroda-san, what's your philosophy of life?"

"_What_?" What a random question!

"What are the words you live by? A man I knew once, Himura-san, believed that one should protect the weak. What about you?" Soujiro was gazing intently into my eyes. He was really serious about this!

"Uh…I don't really have a 'philosophy of life'," I answered. "I'm just a young widow in Osaka—I don't think about things like that."

"Oh. I'm sorry," said the boy, gazing out at the bay again.

I smacked the back of his head. "Stop apologizing for everything!" I snapped at him. "There's nothing to be sorry about! You shouldn't say sorry because I don't have a philosophy of life!"

"I'm sorry for saying sorry, Kuroda-san," Soujiro said, rubbing his head and grinning broadly at me.

Before I could wallop him again, he dashed down the bridge, rubbing his head. I chased after him, yelling, "Get back here! Are you scared? You'd better be!" All of a sudden, I tripped on my kimono. Of course, what did I expect from running around like that? I was falling most ungracefully…

But was caught by Soujiro. In confusion, I looked up at his face. "I thought you were…many meters…away…" I said, very perplexed. He helped me stand up and I peered around him. There were small, splintered craters in the bridge, huge spaces between each one, and they led up to...him.

Soujiro saw where I was looking and smiled sheepishly. "Oh, it's, um, a sword technique I know," he said. "Shukuchi. But it wasn't quite yet Shukuchi."

"Reduced earth? A fitting name," I said, still staring at the craters. Suddenly, I pounded the top of his head multiple times. "This for teasing me, this for running, this for tripping, and this for you destroying the bridge!"

(A/N: I have a very anime view of this. Picture Inuyasha after being told to "Sit!" a few times by Kagome.)

Soujiro sat up and clutched the top of his head. "I would apologize, Kuroda-san, but then you'd only hit me more," he said.

"Finally! You understand what I've been trying to knock into your head lately."

"Yes, you've knocked my head very successfully."

He dodged another blow. "Soujiro," I laughed, after seeing the pleading expression on his face. "What do you want for dinner?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews:)

If anyone did not catch the HUGE ENORMOUS GIGANTIC COLOSSAL MAMMOTH TITANIC GARGANTUAN IMMENSE and BIG BIG foreshadowing in the previous chapter...there is no hope for you. And this is Midoriko's final chapter. Wow. It took way longer than I expected. Six more to go...

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Chapter Four

It seemed an eternity to lie there and wait. I reached over to Soujiro's sleeping mat and touched his hand gently. "Are you still awake?" I asked. It must've been midnight, or past midnight.

Soujiro squeezed my hand in return. "Yes," he replied. "Kuroda-san, whatever happens, please be well."

"You, too." Would those be his last words? I forced myself to stop thinking about it.

We lay there, huddled under our blankets. It was early autumn, and I noticed the nights getting colder as I shivered. All of a sudden, Soujiro let go of my hand, and I heard a soft _chink_ as he placed his hand on his katana. "He's coming," the boy whispered. "He's trying to break into the front door."

I listened intently, and heard nothing. "How do you know?"

"He broke in! Pretend you're asleep, Kuroda-san."

I closed my eyes and buried myself deeper into my blanket. A few moments later, I heard soft footsteps, and the cautious sound of the door sliding open. The man was breathing heavily, but I didn't dare open my eyes.

Suddenly, I heard a sword swing down, a grunt, and a crash. I leaped up; with my eyes wide open as I struggled to make out the figures in the darkness. Soujiro was standing above a fallen large man in black, Soujiro's katana at his neck.

"Wait, don't kill him!" I cried, rushing over to the man.

Soujiro said, "I wasn't going to. If I'm right...Toyotomi-san, please don't move."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded. "It can't be Tatsuya!" I inched over to the intruder and slowly peeled off his mask.

It _was_ Tatsuya.

It _was_ my close childhood friend, the man who owned the teashop I visited every morning, the only one who still supported me when everyone else abandoned me.

"Why?" I asked him, my voice cracking. "Why, Tatsuya?"

Tatsuya didn't meet my gaze. Instead, he turned to Soujiro. "Please kill me," he said.

Soujiro shook his head. "Tell Kuroda-san why you did what you did," he commanded.

"You knew all along," I said to Soujiro.

The boy sighed, "I knew he was a swordsman the moment I saw him, and I put the pieces together. However, if I'd told you, you wouldn't have believed me."

I had to admit he was right. I turned to Tatsuya again, moisture already gathering in my eyes. I remembered my husbands, solemn but charming Kichiro, playful Seiichi, and Osamu with those intelligent dark eyes. I saw their bloody heads on the ground, and saw Soujiro's bloody head as well, still with that smile, and to think that Tatsuya had done that, would have done that…

Tears dripped onto his black kimono. "Why, Tatsuya?"

He reached up to wipe the tears off my cheek, but Soujiro pressed his katana harder to his neck, breaking skin and making a fine line of blood. Tatsuya laughed, "You caught me. I don't care if I die anymore."

"Answer her," said Soujiro.

Sighing, Tatsuya explained. "Riko-chan, I've loved you ever since we were young."

"And that's a reason to kill them?" I demanded. "You were like my big brother, Tatsuya. You never told me of your feelings. Because I still considered you as a friend, because I fell in love, you had to _kill them_?" I was crying hard now.

"Riko-chan, please don't cry…" Tatsuya's eyes were welling up as well. "I loved you so incredibly much, but I could never find the courage to tell you. You were so beautiful, so wild and free, and I wanted to be a part of your life, Riko-chan. I thought I would tell you someday, when the moment was perfect and romantic, but you met Kichiro."

"And you killed him."

"Kichiro was a nice man, but it hurt me so much when all you would talk about was Kichiro. Ki-chan did this and Ki-chan did that, and Ki-chan and I are getting married!" Tatsuya reached for my hand, and Soujiro didn't stop him. He gently held my fingers, but I didn't hold his hand back. "I thought that maybe, if Kichiro were gone, you'd forget him and maybe fall in love with me. It was a stupid thought."

"Yes," I snapped harshly.

"Of course, it didn't work. And then you met Seiichi. The same thing happened, and my heart broke a second time," continued Tatsuya. "I lost control of myself again, and…"

"You killed him, too."

"I did. And then, to break my heart forever, you fell in love with Osamu. The way you looked at him, the way you lost yourself in his arms, I wanted you to do that with me, too. The kitsune rumors were starting to run around, and I thought that maybe, if everyone else believed in those rumors but I continued being your friend, you'd realize what a wonderful person I was and marry me." He couldn't meet my eyes. "A foolish idea, but the one that I ran with."

Soujiro said, "Don't forget about the drugs."

"Oh," sighed Tatsuya. "Yes, I drugged you and your husbands on the sixth day, timed so perfectly that you would fall asleep at night, as usual, and sleep through even fireworks." He turned to Soujiro and smiled, a sad smile. "You knew the entire time, didn't you?"

"I've had experience with murder plots before," the boy said.

"Tatsuya," I said angrily, wiping the tears from my face with my sleeve. "You lied to me and killed the men I loved, all because you were too cowardly to tell me you loved me? You would've killed Soujiro, too, if he hadn't seen through you."

Tatsuya snorted, "This boy? He's amazingly fast. I probably wouldn't have been able to kill him anyway. He probably would've defeated me in his drug-induced sleep."

"What did he do?" I asked.

Shrugging, Tatsuya said, "I don't know. All I remember was raising my sword to kill him and finding myself on the floor, my stomach hurting like hell."

Soujiro explained, "Oh, he had a katana and was swinging it down to cut off my head, like he said, but I rolled out of the way, hit him in a vital point beneath the chest bone with the hilt of my katana, and tripped him."

"All in about half a second," Tatsuya laughed wryly. "Why don't you kill me, Soujiro? The only one I lived for hates me. I risked my life, I dirtied my hands, I became a murderer for this one woman, and now she probably wants me dead. Why don't you grant both our wishes?"

"I don't want you dead," I said. "I hate to think that someone should kill because of me, and that's why I'm angry. You chose the wrong path."

"A pathway to Hell," said Tatsuya, gripping Soujiro's katana. "If you will not kill me, may I kill myself?"

Soujiro neatly twisted his katana out of Tatsuya's hand without slicing off any fingers. "Kuroda-san may be angry, but she's not like you. She would not wish you dead, even though you killed her husbands. She's still your friend," said the boy, smiling at me. "Aren't you?"

I was crying again. I stood up and held out a hand to Tatsuya. He took it and I helped him up. "What you did was very wrong," I said, tears streaming. I wrapped my arms around him and sobbed into his chest. "You went too far."

Tatsuya hugged me back. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Women are always far cleverer than men. I'm sorry I caused you so much pain." And the sincerity in his voice told me it was true.

"I…I think I forgive you," I said, squeezing him tighter. "You'll have to give me time to get over this. I can't ever forget what you did."

Tatsuya stroked my hair tenderly. "I'd give you an eternity if I had it, Riko-chan," he said.

"And maybe, maybe I'll give you a chance." I broke away from his hug, looked up and smiled through my tears.

"That's the smile I love," said Tatsuya. "I suppose we should thank the boy."

"Oh, right." I'd forgotten about Soujiro.

Tatsuya turned and said, "Thank you, Sou…" He stopped abruptly. The boy was gone with the autumn wind.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** All who reviewed, kamsahabnida so much! Which is Korean for thanks, for all you dolts out there.

I got a few reviews mentioning how Midoriko shouldn't have been so nice...well, I couldn't very well kill off Tatsuya and Midoriko had to have a happy ending. Even if it was with a psycho serial killer.

And so Soujiro moves on. I'm going to make my chapters twice as long as before so as not to suffer chapter overload. I'd rather have crazy long chapters than a crazy number of chapters...just a weird obsession of mine. Read on, and let me know how you like Akemi...she's quite crazy... d:

**-------------------**

**Hiroaki Akemi**

Chapter One

"_Komaji," said the sign. He touched his katana gently and immediately felt peace flow through him. To think that a weapon that killed could bring one a sense of comfort…he sighed to himself. While traveling away from Osaka, he'd wondered briefly if he should also take up a policy of not killing and find a sakaba sword, but he realized that he wasn't like Himura…he couldn't live like that._

_Anyway, he'd had his fill of big cities and was going to sightsee some rustic farming villages around the southern coast of Honshu. Komaji was more of a small town than such a village, but it was a start, and he was starting to feel a bit hungry. He strode through the gates and down the main street, feeling the yen in his small pack bounce with each step._

_What was that crowd doing near the town center?_

--

"Damn you," I wanted to say to the snotty American "expert" standing near the threshold. But I had a rag tied around my mouth and could only grunt angrily.

He bent down towards me and lifted my chin up. I glared at him as icily as I could. "Yes, I have had great experience with witches in America," he said in his terrible Japanese to the governor, who was standing behind me. "I have sent many to the stake. She is definitely a witch. Do you see that crafty look in her eye?"

"What crafty look? I'm glaring at you, you idiot!" I snarled. But it came out as muffled _mmphs_!

The governor peered into my eyes. "Indeed, I see what you mean," he said lamely. He turned to a few rice farmers and ordered, "Pile up the hay." They obeyed immediately, and began tossing bales of hay into a pile around the stake.

The drum began. With each beat, the men holding me shoved me forward a step. Shove, step, shove, step…until I felt them wrapping ropes around me and pressing me hard against the wooden pole.

The American silenced the crowd with a raised hand. "Listen, witch," he said loudly, turned with his back towards me and addressing the crowd. _If you're going to call me a witch, you might as well say it to my face!_ "For your acts against the Lord Almighty, you will burn today at the stake. You are charged with listening to the voices of Satan and causing miscarriages, deaths, and misfortunes in Komaji. Do you have any last words?"

_Yes. I hope you die a gruesome death._ Was that all I could think of? Anyway, the crowd chuckled a little nervously, as the American waved a hand towards my bound mouth and guffawed.

"Pour the sake," said the man with yellow hair like a dog's and blue eyes like a cat's. _You beast!_

Farmhands soaked the bales of hay with jugs of sake, pouring it liberally around my feet. I prayed desperately for a miracle, that the thin blanket of snow on the threshold would somehow stop the fire.

Suddenly, a boy was talking to the American. He was a newcomer; I'd never seen him before. He looked young, in his teens, maybe, but he was carrying a katana of all things! I looked him up and down. His kimono was dusty and wet from traveling, and his sandles were looking a little worn out. _Don't bother wasting your efforts, little boy. I am beyond saving now,_ I thought sadly.

The American roughly shoved the newcomer away and shouted, "Start the fire!"

All of a sudden, the newcomer leaped onto the threshold and pushed his katana out an inch with his left thumb. Was he going to draw it? "Please do not. I will be forced to stop you," he said. With all his brave words, he had this peaceful, almost happy look on his face. What was with this boy?

The American snorted, "Well, you can die with her! Start the fire!"

One of the farmers shouted, "Hoy, back off!" and tossed the torch onto the bales.

"Go away!" I grunted to the boy. "Save yourself!" I could already feel the heat spreading rapidly across the sake-drenched hay and closed my eyes.

All of a sudden, I felt a whoosh of movement. When I opened my eyes a split second later, the boy was carrying me under his left arm, his katana dripping blood in his right hand. Blood! I twisted free of his grasp and fell promptly onto the snow.

"Oh, lady," he said, smiling and kneeling to face me. "Are you okay?"

I found that the rag was gone—had he sliced it off along with my ropes? Wow, he was good! "Yes, thank you," I said, leaping to my feet and looking around. We were on top of a _roof_! Near the threshold, the American and the farmhands who were going to burn me were _decapitated_, the rest of the townspeople looking in horror at the severed heads!

"We should go, before they notice where we are," he said. Before I could respond, he wrapped his arm around my waist and leaped down like a cat to the other side of the building.

"You…killed them?" I asked in horror, remembering the scene as he wiped his scarlet-stained katana onto the snow.

"Yes. I'm sorry if you found it upsetting." The newcomer turned to me, smiling as he sheathed his sword. "I'm Seta Soujiro, what's your name?"

What was I going to do? Where was I going to go now? Would I have to leave Komaji, and find another town to live in, again? "Hiroaki Akemi," I answered. "Soujiro-kun, thank you for saving my life." I supposed that I should at least be grateful.

"Oh, it was nothing," he said. "I suppose everyone here dislikes you now. Do you have anywhere to go? I might be able to accompany you."

"I don't know where I could go…"

"Perhaps any relatives?"

Oh, right! "Yes, my parents!" I exclaimed. "I don't know if they'll accept me, but it's worth a try, right?"

Soujiro-kun adjusted the pack slung in front of him. "Where do they live?"

"Yamaguchi," I said. "I'd say a week of walking from here if we use the roads, but four or so days if we cut through the forest."

"Hiroaki-san," said Soujiro-kun.

"Hmm?"

"Why were those people trying to kill you?"

"Oh, that." I sighed, "They think I'm a witch."

"A…witch?"

"It's the Western form of a demon. The American claimed that I was a witch and should be burned, and of course the governor would obey."

"Why would they call you a witch?"

I couldn't bring myself to look at him. "Because I hear voices," I said quietly. There was a patient silence beside me, as he waited for me to continue. "It started happening five years ago. These two voices would talk to me, a man and a woman, but no one else could hear them. My parents thought I was possessed. We went on a family vacation to Tokyo four years ago, when I was sixteen, and one morning, I woke up in the inn to find that my parents had left me." I had long since cried over this, and had no more tears to spend. "I got a job in the inn as a cleaning lady, but soon, they found out about the voices and kicked me out. I wandered from city to city, leaving as soon as I was kicked out, but Komaji was the first place where the people actually tried to kill me."

I turned my gaze to Soujiro-kun, watching for his reaction. He still seemed…happy. "Can you hear the voices now?" he asked.

I shook my head. "They speak every now and then, usually unexpectedly, but they're not here now."

Soujiro-kun patted my shoulder comfortingly. "So you're twenty? I turned twenty-one this past fall," he said. "Yes, yes, everyone thinks I look much younger."

"So…you'll come with me to Yamaguchi?" I said disbelievingly. He didn't think I was strange, hearing voices? Then again, he was strange himself, walking around with a sword and chopping heads off.

"Yes, but you don't mind if we cut through the forest, do you?" Soujiro-kun asked. "My katana attracts attention."

"I noticed," I muttered as he began walking forward.

_Father…Mother…_ Their faces flashed in my mind. _I'm going home! I'm going home?_

Soujiro-kun paused, and half-turned. "Hiroaki-san, are you coming?"

"Oh, yes!" I ran to catch up. "I'm sorry, I was thinking about something."

"It's all right. If you get tired while we're walking, please tell me."

"Okay," I said. "Soujiro-kun?" I beamed up at him. _You aren't pushing me away as if I'm contaminated, because I hear voices. You're going to help me find my parents, after four years of pain without them. _"Thank you."

--

"Hiroaki-san?" Soujiro-kun and I had walked nearly the entire day through the forest, and I was _tired_. "You're tired, aren't you?"

Was he psychic? I had tried not to show it! "A little," I admitted, feeling the soreness pulling my back and neck tightly.

We came across a stream and he dropped his pack by the bank. "We'll stop here for the night, then," he said. "I'll go get food."

"You're going to hunt with…a katana?" I asked incredulously.

Soujiro-kun shrugged, and explained, "I've been wandering for several months now. I've learned how to get by. Oh, would you mind starting a fire, if you can?"

"I can."

He nodded. And then he disappeared into the denser of the forest.

I sighed deeply, contentedly, as I began collecting firewood. One day with him had been more bliss than the past four years of my life. He was kinder to me than any of the people I had met, and his smile made my knees weak.

_Ooh, she's falling in love, Rin._

_Pathetic wretch. As if a man could ever love a freak like her, Min?_

Their laughter echoed through the trees.

Oh no. Rin and Min were back again. It was they. The voices.

"Be quiet, Rin," I said in hushed tones, hopping Soujiro-kun wouldn't hear me. "You're the reason I'm a freak, anyway. It's not my fault you won't go away."

_Aw, poor thing, she's mad, now._ Amused hisses.

_Look at her hopeful eyes. Who's she waiting for? That boy, who hasn't even sprouted facial hair yet?_

_Yes, Min, that one. The one's who's _kind_ to her. Poor girl._

_Always dreaming of the man that will save her…_

…_You call that a man?_

…_the one who will not be disgusted by her _differences_…_

…_To put it mildly._

…_and will _accept_ her, the sweet dear._

…_Accept her as much as dear Mommy and Daddy did?_

Cruel laughter again.

If they had living, breathing, material forms, I would've clawed their eyes out. But as it was, I had to attempt to shut them out, gather kindling, pile it up.

_Look, Rin, she thinks she can ignore us!_

_Ha!_

Their voices grew louder, clamoring infuriatingly in my head. I staunchly shoved dry grass beneath the small logs.

_She should know by now that we cannot be ignored._

_We will always be here, whether she likes it or not._

_Here to criticize…_

_Here to annoy…_

_Here to drive insane…_

_She _is_ insane, Min. Quite literally. Only the freaks hear voices. Only the possessed and the witches…_

"Shut up!" I screamed. And then softer, hoping Soujiro-kun hadn't heard, "You are not always here. When I was about to die, you, you who had caused the entire mess in the first place, you deserted me. Where were you then, huh? Not here to criticize and annoy and drive insane? You made me look like a fool, a demon in front of everyone. Right when I think I've found a home, at last, somewhere to stay, you start talking and get me kicked out. I was almost _burned at the stake_, for crying out loud!"

They cackled and shrieked in reply. And they grew louder, their cacophony of voices ringing. Their words jumbled and mixed and gave me the worst headache. They were banging on my temples, shouting, laughing…

_Fire, did you see the red flames? Crackling as it drank the sake and devoured the hay… _

_We cannot be ignored…_

_Did you feel the heat? Licking closer…_

_As if a man…_

_Pathetic wretch!_

…_could ever love a freak like her_

_Witch! Demon!_

_Ooh, she's falling…_

…_Always be here…_

…_In love, in darkness, in insanity…_

…_Cannot be ignored._

_How hopeless, how lost…_

_Possessed wretch._

_Pathetic demon._

_Witch._

In the small, still conscious part of my mind, I was aware of myself falling to my knees, twisting my fingers into my hair and clutching my head, crying out. But their voices enveloped my mind, and I couldn't drive them out!

_Do you see that crafty look in her eye? Pour the sake, start the fire!_

_She's not right in her mind, I'm telling you_

_Mother! Father! Where are you_

_Demon!_

_Why did you do this to me_

_The earth is spinning, tilting, whirling_

_Why did you leave me_

_Falling off the edge_

_Abandon me here_

_Throwing you into the stars, where the nothingness_

_All alone_

_Will swallow you_

_Soujiro-kun_

And I felt his hands on my shoulder, good…solid…_real_. "Hiroaki-san," he said, his voice echoing as if from a distance.

_She hears voices, she's a witch_

He pulled me up gently, his fingers still clutching my arms firmly, warmly. "Hiroaki-san, are you okay?"

_For your acts against the Lord Almighty_

_I think something is wrong with our daughter_

_You will burn today at the stake_

_Nonsense. It's just her imagination_

"Oh, the voices." Soujiro-kun still seemed so far away. "They must be annoying."

_Listening to the voices of Satan_

_But she's sixteen! She is too old for this_

_Possessed_

_I have heard of these cases, but never near Yamaguchi_

_Here to drive insane_

_She's cursed…the gods are angry at us…_

"Hiroaki-san," he murmured. And for some reason, his voice was much closer. I could feel his breath on my ear. "Can you shut them out?"

I manage to grasp that still-sane part of myself and shake my head. "Sou…"I began, struggling to form words. The voices had never been this intense before, and I fought desperately to cut through them.

Suddenly, the world grew warmer. I felt pressure, tender. "At least you can hear me. Focus on what's real."

_Look, Rin, she thinks she can ignore us!_

His voice came again, to help pull me through the din. "They don't exist, Hiroaki-san. A figment of your imagination."

I was almost there. _Keep talking, Soujiro-kun_, I thought desperately.

"No one's here, no one's talking but me. All that's real is the forest around us and me and you. Don't let them take you away."

I broke free at last. The voices died down, and my head quieted to a gentle throbbing. Soujiro-kun had been hugging me, not a hug of love or friendship, I noticed almost sadly, a hug of comfort and protection. "Soujiro-kun…"

"Are you all right now?"

_Don't let me go_, I wanted to say. But the words refused to form on my tongue. "Y-yes, I think so," I mumbled, already feeling the weight of his arms leave and expose me to the cool night air. "Thank you."

"Oh, it's nothing," he laughed, a little embarrassed. "Look, I brought us some food. It looks like you were about to get the fire started."

"Oh." My cheeks turned hot. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Hiroaki-san," said the boy very cheerfully. He struck a match and got the fire going. "Was it very bad, this attack?"

"It's never been as terrible as this," I admitted, unable to meet his eyes. _Hold me again, please, your arms were so warm…_

Soujiro-kun held up a brace of hares, neatly severed at the neck, the blood washed off. "I'm no cook," he said, handing the hares to me. "Do you know how?"

I took the carcasses silently and proceeded skinning and cleaning them with the small knife I kept in my kimono. _Oh, Soujiro-kun, thank you, but please tell me: why do you make me feel this way?_

-----------------

Yeah, yeah. Paranoid schizophrenia. Ah well. She was fun to write in this chapter.


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